What Happiness Is
by Quaxicoffelees
Summary: Cats were a lot like humans. They had such distinct personalities, so clear cut and plainly known. But their relations with each other - that's where the lines began to blur. The real trick to life was trying to figure out how they all fit together.
1. Prologue

** MY FINALS ARE OVER. SPRING BREAK HORRAY.**  
><strong>Look who broke out the old VHS tape from storage and my old sheet music book.<strong>  
><strong>We've got Blaine, Kurt, and Rachel [and Finn - ish]. <strong>  
><strong>Watching the classic ineffable musical Cats.<strong>  
><strong>Best. Fluff-Prompt. Ever. I'm ecstatic to have filled it.<strong>

**I would like to note though, I took the prompt to imply an intense interaction with the movie, so - well, if you haven't watched it, this might be really confusing. Because the movie is incorporated a lot into this. A lot. It's heaps of extreme play-by-play of the movie. And [in the other parts] there's massive analysis of the movie being a metaphor reflecting Glee, rather than just a passive mention of the musical. Yeah.I'm one of those creepers who are passionately obsessive about Cats. My crazy is blaring fiercely. **

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><p>The music pinged, four quick notes that ting-ed crisp and clear. There was a sharp pause as the last note was held in suspense, waiting on edge for the cue to begin. Blaine raised his arms parallel to the floor, holding them out to mirror the man that slid onto the stage and slipped into a crouched position before standing.<p>

"_Are you blind when you're born?_" he claimed. Rachel's eyes widened in a comical attempt of dramatic daring as she attempted to mirror the man on screen. Blaine grinned as Kurt's foot unconsciously twitched at every offbeat as the people on stage ticked their knees subtly.

They had decided, after the awkward mess of their love triangle, to get together and fix things between them with a meaningful Girl Chat. Of course, that ended up turning into a musical marathon, which led them to this very moment.

Originally, they were just going to put a musical in as background noise. Instead of conversing about what had happened, they had ended up arguing the pros and cons of Kurt's collection of Broadways movies. Blaine had interrupted the heated debate between Kurt and Rachel over the vocal differences of Sarah Brightman and Emmy Rossum in Phantom Of The Opera by waving around the old VHS of Cats.

It was a classic, the longest running on Broadway, and you couldn't go wrong with that.

When the cats had aligned themselves in a chorus formation, the three joined in, eager to sing along. They put on their best prim and proper airs, Kurt and Rachel easily sliding into an over exaggerated diva flair.

"_And can you as cats do begin with a C_?" Blaine challenged them.

Both of them hit the high C with perfect pitch.

"Oh wow," he said, quaintly impressed by their ability. He'd known Kurt could reach the note - after all, he was a countertenor. But to hear them both do so in synchronization was - something special.

"I'm rather amazed myself," Kurt agreed, smirking in Rachel's direction. "Here I thought you'd be taking the part of Rumpleteazer."

"What?" she gasped, offended. "But she's flat!"

"Exactly."

Finn, who had been coming downstairs to raid the kitchen for food, peeked into the living room curiously. He leaned against the doorway as the three continued on, trying to outdo each other in the endless run of lyrics that followed.

"_Practical cats, dramatical cats, pragmatical cats, fanatical cats, oratorical cats, delphi-oracle cats, skeptical cats, dyspeptical cats, romantical cats, pendantical cats, critical cats, parastical cats, allegorical cats, metaphorical cats, statistical cats and mystical cats, political cats, hypocritical cats, clerical cats, hysterical cats, cynical cats, rabbinical cats_!" The burst into laughter, having somehow hit every type in one go while still keeping pace with the music.

"What're you guys watching?" Finn asked, bewildered. There were people in cat suits dancing across the screen. Three heads turned to him, blinking in surprise - and then the man on screen, sliding to the front of the stage, looking offended.

"_There's a man over there with a look of surprise, as much as to say well now how about that?_"

"_Do I actually see with my own very eyes_," another zebra stripped cat joined in, equally shocked. "_A man who's not heard of a Jellicle Cat?"_

They were drawn back to the screen, whispering the following lyrics together in a trance.

Finn just disappeared into the kitchen. Men. In tight catsuits. Definitely not a movie for him.

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><p><strong>Constructive criticism or corrections are always welcome. [Especially if someone knows who actually is flat in that scene - I don't think you can really pick any of them out individually, but I always presumed it was either Rumpleteazer or Jenny.]<strong>


	2. She's Not A Refrigerator

**I was going over some of the parts I've written and realized I have a penchant for Kurt looking at his nails. I don't know if that's because it's something I tend to do when talking, or something else, but…**

**I don't know, I couldn't think of how to edit it away, so I just left it. I'll try and fix it for other parts.**

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><p>"Coach would kill Victoria if she were a Cheerio - look at her leg wobble." Kurt shook his head in disdain. Mistoffelees flew out of the background, joining her to begin the introduction scene starting off the Jellicle Ball.<p>

"She can't be that bad," Blaine started hesitantly, clearly unsure after having had his first impression of her intimidating, demanding force of sheer will - but also unable to give up his optimistic view that there was a little bit of good in everyone.

"I doubt it," Rachel shot down, agreeing with Kurt. "Kurt was a Cheerio - he knows all about what they go through. Their regimen is more than even I put myself through for preserving of my voice."

"Wait." Blaine blinked, staring in shock at Kurt. "You were a _cheerleader_?"

Kurt flushed a particularly interesting shade of pink, ignoring the question.

"Poor Mistoffelees," he mumbled as he filed his nails, hoping to change the topic of conversation quickly. Rachel nodded sympathetically as the young tuxedo kitten was turned down.

"You know it kind of reminds me of how you came in with a Broadway Classic to audition for a Top 40's group," Blaine remarked offhandedly, shrugging casually.

"I blame that on you," Kurt shot icily at Rachel. "Why I went to you for advice, I have no idea. I must've been on more over-the-counter vitamins."

"So anyway!" Blaine interrupted casually, changing the subject to something less explosive and nodding back towards the screen. He was good at distraction, drawing their attention to something else before an argument could break out. "I can see The Council singing background to Jenny. I mean, there are three of them after all: Wes, David, Thad - Demeter, Jellylorum, Bombalurina."

Kurt raised an eyebrow, grinning.

"Oh really now? And how does that work out?" he teased, nudging Blaine's shoulder gently. "Thad couldn't pass Bomba's sensuality, nor would David pull off Jellylorum's notes with proper flair. As for Wes being Demeter… well, at least he's got her stilted aloofness down."

"Nonsense," the shorter teen insisted, mirroring Kurt's grin. "You saw how Thad was dancing when we performed for the girls of Crawford Academy - he and Logan were practically stripping on set."

"Not their fault that Nick decided everyone should take their blazers off," Kurt countered, his tone aloof as he sat straighter. Rachel frowned, not following the conversation - and quite annoyed that they were ignoring her like that.

"Kurt, you're not being pressured into scandalous indignities, are you?" she demanded, glaring at Blaine. The countertenor turned a brilliant shade of pink, groaning as he covered his face in embarrassment.

"No Rachel. I assure you, I'm still as virtuous and frigid as you are." She gasped, offended.

"I am not frigid!"

Finn, who had been passing the living room archway as he wandered down the hallway, ducked out from behind the wall.

"Hey dude, she's not a refrigerator. She's a vegan." Blaine cracked up, trying to stifle his laughter as he slapped a hand over his mouth. Kurt merely rolled his eyes, flinging a throw pillow behind him.

"Frigid, Finn - not 'fridge'. It means she doesn't put out!"

"Oh. Well, she totally let me touch her boob once!" the older brother tried. Rachel shrieked, mortified.

"Finn Hudson -!" He was quick to disappear, leaving Kurt and Blaine to wrestle the girl back onto the couch before she let out her diva fury and broke something in a flurry of her rage.

"He's kind of like a cockroach," Blaine muttered to Kurt, snapping his fingers to the tap dancing march as Jenny inspected the insects on stage. "I mean, look at them - so hard to keep track of. They're terrible at following orders and always fumble around."

"Maybe," Kurt replied with a smirk. His eyes softened, thinking fondly. "But he's a good guy. See, look at them - they mean well. That has to count for _something_."

Blaine grinned, nudging his shoulder as they watched in comfortable silence.

And then Rum Tum Tugger was strutting across the stage, oozing sex appeal.

"It's like a male Santana," Rachel muttered darkly. Kurt scoffed.

"You mean it's Puck." He squinted contemplatively at the blatant flirting and frottage happening before their eyes. "I think Santana would definitely make a better Bombalurina."

Rachel spun to face him, her expression far too bright with ideas.

"How drunk would we have to make them to get them to sing this?" Kurt snorted, thinking her crazy. But Blaine eagerly caught on to the suggestion, bouncing in his seat as he turned to her.

"He would be _perfect_ for that role. It's filled with alpha male sex appeal - an he does brag about his sexual escapades. He could totally pull off the Mick Jagger rocker style. And those hip thrusts…"

"Excuse me?" Rachel said, shocked by such a lustful comment. The Dalton student raised an eyebrow.

"Oh, come on. Puck and Tugger have sex appeal. You can't deny that it's hot. Even if it is a bit disturbing, considering - well, it's Puck, and it's a cat." Kurt snorted.

"I think you'd make a decent Tugger," he started, slamming a hand over his mouth when he realized he'd said it outloud. Rachel giggled hysterically, trying to keep from laughing out loud as the poor countertenor turned a brilliant shade of pink.

"What?" Blaine teased gently, trying to suppress his own wide smile by schooling his features as best as he could.

"Well," Kurt continued, attempting to be nonchalant and hold a straight face. "Look at his facial expressions - sticking his tongue out, completely overplaying the mood. Thinking he's the greatest thing since sliced bread. You'd pull those off perfectly. And he's jumping around everywhere - we all know your penchant for furniture and bunny hopping."

Blaine laughed.

"But I don't have that much blatant sex appeal. I may be good with stage presence and suave charm, but Puck is way better at _that_ sort of thing. Though… then Puck would have to make googly eyes at Kurt," Blaine tacked on, frowning.

"I don't think that would go over all that well," the countertenor muttered loftily. "Heaven forbid I even sing a duet with a guy, much less have some insinuative repartee with them."

"Are you saying Puck's not - how does he say - 'badass' enough to string you along?"

"They can be best friends without being lovers," Rachel interrupted, looking pointedly at Kurt and Blaine.

"They are _so_ gay for each other," both boys replied simultaneously, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. Blaine grinned, Kurt laughing hysterically at their well-timed synchronicity. Rachel merely huffed.

"What proof do you have of that?" Blaine picked up the remote, rewinding the scene before playing it over. He crawled over to the television, using the remote as a pointer as he took apart the scene.

"Just this bit is enough, really. I mean, look at that right there. Misto's saying Tugger is a '_terrible bore_'. But see, Misto is rolling his eyes because he's teasing," the Warbler pointed out, jabbing his finger at the screen. "And really, that line there being directed at him - '_when you let me in then I want to get out_' - that can be construed as pretty sexual, you know. And he drops Bombalurina like a hot potato - definitely not into women. He's just an attention seeker."

"It's called flirting, Rachel," Kurt added dryly, glancing at his nails. She sniffed, crossing her arms. "There are a lot of other little instances if you pay attention - little glances, little looks. It's cute."

"Well, I for one think that it's incredibly presumptuous to say that they're an item just because they have a few lines of subtle flirting. I mean, look at you two. Your whole '_Baby It's Cold Outside_' duet that Finn told me you mentioned - those gazes you threw at each other when you two did '_Hey Soul Sister_' at Sectionals. And you did mention scandalous indignities during a private 'sexy' performance for the girls of Crawford Academy. You two are always talking together - you're attached at the hip! You know each others' coffee order. And yet you guys are still just friends. So why can't Tugger and Misto be that close and be just friendly?"

Kurt shifted uncomfortably, focusing his attention on the strange diamond patters that decorated the throw rug beneath him. Blaine stared at the remote in his hand, slowly scooting across the floor and back to Kurt's edge of the couch as the song continued. Rachel twisted her hands in her lap, starting to feel guilty for what she had said.

On screen the mangy gray Grizabella stepped from the shadows. Immediately, the mood darkened.

They'd never really talked about the confusing chaos of her Trainwreck Party Extravaganza. They'd all known that Kurt liked Blaine, but they'd still experimented. Kurt hadn't been the supportive friend he was technically supposed to be and lashed out at both of them. Even if it was within their rights, they'd all hurt each other. After a while, they seemed to reach some unspoken mutual apology - ignoring what had happened - and moved on.

But it was still a bit horrible to bring up.

"Sorry," she whispered. Blaine just flashed her his performance smile; Kurt patted her hand awkwardly.

And so, the movie continued.

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><p><strong>On the note of both Blaine and Puck being able to pull of Tugger for different reasons [sex appeal vs. egocentric cheesiness]: I would find it greatly amusing if Blaine asked Puck for relationship advice.<strong>


	3. An Extensive Reputation

**If these seem to read like one-shot scenes, it's because I've never done anything multi-chaptered, so I'm having a bit of a difficult time tying in smooth transitions. Especially since the movie emphasizes visual transitions - not chorographical or lyrical/musical transitions.**

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><p>"Now, Bustopher Jones and Mistoffelees," Blaine pointed out, trying to start a - hopefully - better conversation.<p>

"What about them?" Rachel asked curiously.

"They look an awful lot alike. I think Misto is his nephew - what do you think?" he prompted, glancing over Kurt to watch her expression. She eagerly jumped in, pushing her hair over her shoulder as she started rambling on.

"Their interactions do play off each other rather nicely - Bustopher drops an incident of high praise and Mistoffelees pulls off a rather proud look. Right there, for example - being in the '_joint superior schools_'. And their outfits are matching, too: they're both tuxedo cats, black and white. White spats, white leggings. White cravat bib, white ruffled insert. White gloves, white arm warmers," she listed seriously.

"Speaking of arm warmers, Rachel, I heard the most terrible news. Mercedes was spreading the haunting rumor that everyone dressed up like you for a week at school. I can't imagine such a travesty actually happening - tell me she was kidding and that the trauma I suffered was on an unfounded basis."

"Actually, I paid Brittney to make me into a fashion icon." Kurt paled, an expression of pure horror pasted to his face.

"No", he said, voice trembling in terror. "I taught her better than that."

There was a crash of thunder and the loud wailing of siren's. Rain hissed, a torrential downpour. It was all film noir, shadows dancing in flashes of light with jazzy mystery music transitioning the mood from panic to tomfoolery.

They immediately dropped the conversation, turning their attention back to the movie.

Rachel laughed obnoxiously. Kurt shushed her.

Blaine merely grinned, leaning against the arm of the couch and watching the two go at it.

"_Mungojerry_," Kurt whispered impishly, looking sly at Rachel out of the corner of his eye.

"_And Rumpleteazer_," she followed up brashly, jutting her chin out in rebellious insolence.

"_We're the notorious cat-panner cats_," they hissed.

"_As knock about clowns_, _quick change comedians, tight rope walkers and acrobats_!" she exclaimed, hamming up her ridiculous East-Coast city-slicker accent.

"_We have an extensive reputation we make our home in Victoria Grove This is merely our centre of operation_," Kurt sang, all prim and proper in his attempt at being posh Victorian-English.

"_For we are incurably given to rove_!" they joined in together, bursting into movement as they jumped off the couch together. They circled around the small coffee table before ending up on either side of the television screen, ready to act out their parts, playing off each others energy.

"_When the family assembled for Sunday dinner_," he began.

"_Their minds made up they won't get thinner_," she teased.

"_An Argetine joint _-" Kurt listed off.

"_Potatoes and greens, then the cook would appear from behind the scenes_," Rachel interrupted.

"_And say in a voice that is broken with sorrow, I'm afraid you must wait and have dinner tomorrow, the joint has gone from the oven like that_." Kurt stopped. They locked eyes, smirking.

"_Then the family will say 'it's that horrible cat'_!" Their heads tilted to the beat of the quoted words. It was strangely brilliant how in sync they were - their synergy was breathtaking. Blaine watched in awe, enjoying every moment of their performance.

"_Was it Mungojerry_?"

"_Or Rumpleteazer_?"

"_And most of the time they leave it at that._"

At that, they joined hands, waltzing around the furniture and parading about in ridiculously embellished paces, sometimes breaking into bursts of jazz hands and spirit fingers.

"_Mungojerry and Rumpleteazer have a wonderful way of working together. And some of the time you'd say it was luck, and some of the time you would say it was weather! We go through the air like a hurricane_."

"_And no sober person could take his oath_!" Kurt piped up, his acting perfect with the pretense of being helpfully informative when, really, the lines were just uselessly pointing out the obvious. "_Was it Mungojerry_?"

"_Or Rumpleteazer_?" Rachel's voice wavered perfectly with the recording, a high pitched vibration.

"_Or could you have sworn that it might've been both? And when you hear a dinning room smash, or up from the pantry there comes a loud crash_!" They made exaggerated hand motions, their arms flailing the emphasize the explosion of sound. But then their eyes went wide, their voices dropping to hushed whispers. "_Or down from the library came a loud PING from a vase which was commonly said to be Ming_!"

Blaine couldn't help but snicker at their shocked facial expressions, filled with pretend surprise and schooled apology.

"_Then the family will say, now which was which cat_?" There was a moment where they preened themselves, brushing imaginary dust off their clothes, smoothing themselves out in mock virtue and honesty.

"_It was - Mungojerry_!" Kurt shouted proudly, flinging his arms in surrender.

"_AND_!" Rachel added in exasperation, throwing a superior grin at Blaine. "_Rumpleteazer_!"

Kurt grabbed Rachel's hands, twisting her around in an impromptu twirling dance pattern.

"_And there's nothing at all to be done about that_!" they finished, nodding solemnly despite the comedic atmosphere of the song.

Blaine paused the movie, breaking into a standing ovation of applause as they bowed deeply.

"Bravo, bravo!" he told them, laughing as they collapsed back onto the couch. "You guys are amazing!"

"Of course we are," Rachel drawled, giving him a sharp look.

"We're diva's - did you expect anything less?" Kurt added, waving a hand disdainfully. There was a spark in his eyes, in his voice - a challenge. Well. Blaine wasn't one to back down from a singing competition. They wanted dramatic? Oh, he could pull off a bit of theatricality. He just had to wait for the right moment.

He was good at using furniture and his short stature to his advantage, after all.

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><p><strong>So, new quarter started, so I'm back taking classes once more, which means I will try and update as often as possible. I haven't had a lot of time to go through and polish up what I have, and I'm still messing about with the Skimbleshanks bit. [And my dearest friend keeps giving me new prompt ideas so I've been a little distracted - as if schoolwork wasn't enough, hahaha *fail*] But I shall do my best!<strong>


	4. When The Blue Bonnets Come Over The Bord

**So I totally forgot to post because there's a convention coming up and my sister and I are going to it and ahhh, I totally forgot about all the cosplays we'd planned. I've got until next week to do all the details and make sure everything's ready - and then yesterday she informs me her friend will be joining us, and can said friend borrow some spare cosplays I have laying around so she's not left out. Noms. So I apologize for not sending these out - hopefully doing a handful will totally make up for that? x****D**

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><p>This was his moment. Blaine flew across the room, crouching beside the television.<p>

"_The Pekes and the Pollicles everyone knows / are proud and implacable passionate foes / it's always the same / wherever one goes. And the Pugs and the Poms / although most people say / that they do not like fighting / yet once in a way / they now and again join into the fray / And they:_"

He raised his arms, one hand gesturing to Kurt and the other to Rachel as he conducted them.

"_Bark_," Rachel snapped.

"_Bark_," Kurt retorted.

"_Bark_."

"_Bark_."

"_Until you could hear them all over the park!_"

Blaine was flailing about, waving his arms in time with the music. He flowed with the words, bringing them to life with his hand flourishing. He was talking with his hands, energetic and action oriented. It was breathtaking, just watching him move to the beat. There wasn't any need to listen to the song, not really - his actions were doing all the storytelling for him.

"_And no one at all was about on the street / when a Peke and a Pollicle happened to meet / they did not advance or exactly retreat / but they glared at each other, and scraped their hind feet / and started to:_"

"_Bark_."

"_Bark_."

"_Bark_," Rachel snapped playfully.

"_Bark_ - _bark_?" Kurt repeated twice, pretending to forget how the bantering was supposed to be give and take. Rachel couldn't help but miss her following repartee as he threw her the most childishly confused expression.

Blaine continued onwards, listing through the types of dogs and their

"_And his braw Scottish cousins are snappers and biters / and every dog-jack of them notable fighters / and so they stepped out with their pipers in order / playing 'When The Blue Bonnets Come Over the Border'_."

Blaine put his hands on his hips, attempting to perform a small Irish jig as he jumped in place, grinning as he pounced upwards and clicked his heels together. Kurt raised an eyebrow in marveled respect at such a show, Rachel clapping beside him. But the music transitioned form it's coarse high-land style to something more elegant and chic. Blaine straightened himself, pretending to tidy a nonexistent tie as he crossed his legs in a rather awkward attempt to at ballet steps.

"_Then the Pugs and the Poms held no longer aloof / but some from the balcony / some from the roof / joined into the din with a bark!_"

The cats on screen burst into a spasm of racous argument, which Rachel and Kurt picked back up.

"_Yappity snappity yappity snap_!" they cried, hands up like claws as they pretended to scratch each other. It was amusing, and fun - and so very, very ridiculous. Blaine couldn't help but burst into laughter, bending at the waist as he tried to catch his breath. He then stood, taking a deep breath to calm himself as he raised his hands above his head to cut them off, stopping their bickering noise.

"_When these bold heroes together assembled / the traffic all stopped / and the underground trembled_." His lowered his hands, shaking them as they stretched forward, attempting to convey the idea of an earthquake. "_And some of the neighbors were so much afraid / that they started to ring up the fire brigade! When suddenly up from a small basement flat / why who should stalk out but The Great Rumpus Cat_!"

"Is that still on?"

Finn poked his head through the doorway, having popped downstairs for a bathroom break - and to check on them, though he'd never say that - causing Rachel to burst into a fit of laughter. Kurt quickly shushed her, shoving a pillow into her face as Blaine ducked down to Finn's side on the opposite end of the doorway. He was acting as if he were a narrator on Animal Planet, hiding away as he observed some dangerous wild beast.

"_His eyes were like fireballs / fearfully blazing. He gave a great yawn / and his jaws were amazing._"

"Yeah," Finn finally said uncertainly, confused at what had just happened. "I'll just - I'm gonna be in my room. Yeah. Upstairs. You guys just - call me if you need anything or - yeah."

"_And what with a glare of his eyes and his yawning / the Pekes and the Pollicles quickly took warning / he looked to the sky and he gave a great leap / and they every last one of them scattered like sheep!" _Blaine exclaimed, literally skipping back around the sofa and to the television to take a bow. It was then that Tugger interrupted the song in an attempt of stealing the spotlight, to which Blaine applauded. Kurt and Rachel were laughing as he bowed once more for his performance, then settled himself onto the edge of the couch by Kurt.

"And that, good sir, is how you put on a show!"


	5. Twins And Telepathy

"They look like twins," Rachel pointed out, nodding to the two sets of identical cats prancing across the screen. "I always wondered what it would be like to have one. To have someone exactly like you, who knows your every thought and every feeling. Wouldn't that be spectacular?"

"I have cousins who are twins. It doesn't necessarily work that way, you know. Cameron and Everett have really obvious differences - Cam adores sports, plays lacrosse and soccer, sometimes tennis. Everett's on the debate team and the FBLA panel, and was founder of the chess club. I mean, they both bond over video games, and they're both into brunette's who are taller than them - and they are rather snobby without realizing it, and they do tend to stick to themselves. But they're not clones of each other."

A sort of quiet fell as Rachel processed the idea. She'd never known anyone who was a twin - she thought it was something magical and deep, like Tantomile and Coricopat - some sort of special bond that separated two people from the rest of the world, that brought meaning to the idea of two people being one. According to Blaine, it was, sort of, but not as fairy-tale like as she'd made it out to be in her mind.

"What about Mungojerrie and Rumpleteazer?" Kurt asked. "I can never decide if I like them better as playful kids or as mischievous partners."

"I think it works well either way," Blaine answered. "I mean, they'd make adorable siblings - impish little brats that think of the worst pranks ever - like the Weasley twins! But then, it's also rather nice to think of them as a couple, supporting each other playfully and concocting the silliest ideas as a way to spend time together."

"What about Tugger and Munkustrap?" Rachel started. "They're both powerful leads, who have rather a demanding presence and force of personality. Tugger is a character who seems to scream out for people to pay attention to him and worship the ground he walks upon - and Munkustrap is the same, just more subdued because he's the mature character people look to for guidance and help. And the way they addressed each other in the Deuteronomy song, bantering back and forth, it put them on a bit of an equal standing. Do you think they're related?"

"I wouldn't be surprised," Blaine agreed thoughtfully.

"If they weren't, then Tugger should've been reprimanded somehow for being out of line, the way he acts." Kurt paused, sending a sly smirk in Blaine's direction. "Then again, Blaine never gets lectured for jumping on furniture and being ridiculous, even though he's only a student and not a Council member. Maybe they're just treated special, because they _are 'special'."_

Blaine pouted as his intelligence was questioned, until they all burst into laughter at his absurd facial expressions of attempting to look like a kicked puppy.

There was a sudden end to the dance and celebration, the blending mash up of mixed music styles ending as the lone instrument presented Grizabella onto the stage once more. They quickly hushed, watching intently.

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><p><strong>I didn't realize how short this part was.<strong>

**[I may go back and edit this because I realize one can compare that whole Mungojerrie/Rumpleteazer relationship with Blaine/Kurt: friends vs. lovers. I will think on this.]**


	6. Alienation And Isolation

**So I disappeared for a while because of family and major issues happening and crazy school things about graduating and transferring and life has been hectic.**  
><strong>But I finally have things sorted out sooo I can post stuff now. Awesomesauce.<strong>  
><strong>[There's a longer apology  explanation / etc. over on LJ if you'd like, but thank you thank you for reading and waiting for me to update and such~!]**

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><p>It was a scene that hit rather close to home for both boys, who were trying their hardest not to think too hard, to swallow their tears down. Grizabella stood in the spotlight, singled out - pouring her heart out as she cried for someone, anyone, to connect with. To hear her. To see her.<p>

"It reminds me of what Ms. Duvall repeats to us," Blaine started quietly, his voice almost cracking halfway through. "About how all literature themes revolve around the life concept of Alienation and Isolation - and how if we ever need a fallback to write our essays on, to use that as our analytical base of argument."

He meant for it to be a funny throwaway comment, but somehow, it just made the air heavier.

Finn had appeared yet again, popping up beside Rachel.

"You guys were being pretty quiet after all that yelling," he whispered loudly, noticing how the other two boys were caught up in their own private conversation, murmuring in hushed tones. Rachel wondered if that was the truth, or if Finn had joined them out of loneliness.

"I hated that feeling," Kurt spoke softly, catching their attention.

Blaine was focused on him, unconsciously scooting closer. Their knees bumped together, encouraging Kurt to continue. He nodded towards the screen.

"_Every streetlamp seems to beat a fatalistic warning_." Victoria and Jemima, the purest and most innocent of all the characters, had reached out to this dirty and bedraggled outsider, only to be forced away as the others jeered and shunned her. Alienation. Isolation.

"I hated how people would treat me as if I were toxic - like I could infect them with something. I hated how they would look at me and avoid touching me, like I was contagious of some - some deadly disease."

Finn frowned, something painful stabbing through his chest. It hurt to hear his brother talk so - brokenly. It made him feel guilty - he'd done that, more than once. He'd been upset that Kurt had a crush on him, and while both of them were at fault for that one, he continued to push Kurt into a corner without really realizing he'd been harming Kurt - telling him to tone himself down, to not sing with Sam.

"I think that's the worst part," Blaine agreed quietly, staring at his hands folded neatly in his lap. "It's not the teasing or being pushed - it's that sense of being alone. That's what hurts the most - when you feel like you have no one to talk to, no one to go to. The name calling, those are just words. The bruises heal over time. But being shunned…".

"_Moonlight, turn your face to the moonlight / let the memory lead you / open up enter in / if you find there / the meaning of what happiness is / then a new life will begin_."

"Not having anyone there with you - it's just too much to do on your own sometimes," Kurt concurred. Blaine grasped his hand, weaving their fingers together. He smiled.

"But now we have each other." And just like that, Kurt's face lit up as he beamed happily.

Finn slid off the couch's armrest.

"I'm gonna go call Sam and Puck - see if they want to play video games here."

Rachel wondered if he saw the irony of having his best friends be the ones who hurt him most.

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><p>"<em>He loves to regale them, if someone else pays  with anecdotes drawn from his palmiest days / for he once was a star / of the highest degree / he has acted with Irving, he's acted with Tree / and he likes to relate his success on the Halls / where the Gallery once game him seven cat calls!_"

"Do you ever think about the future?" Rachel asked them in a small voice, revealing the seriousness of her question.

"Please don't tell me this is a segue way into a discussion about your funeral ideas," Kurt pleaded dryly, though his face revealed him to be thinking deeply.

"_I have played in my time / every possible part / and I used to know seventy speeches by heart!"_

"I'm going to go to New York," she started adamantly, her voice full of determination and fortitude. "Someone will notice my talent, I'm sure of it. I'm going to take advantage of every opportunity that I can get my hands on. I'm going to do whatever it takes to make the most of my dreams."

"I really admire that," Blaine complimented, eyebrows furrowed in concentration. "I think, if I wanted to do music, I wouldn't go for fame though. I think I'd go for something more laidback and fun, without all that pressure and stress. Like café performances. Though I'm pretty sure that I'm going to major in teaching, so I guess that would be more of a hobby. What about you?"

He smiled, nudging Kurt with his shoulder.

"I did pretty well at organizing my father's wedding. I like planning things, making things special. But, if we're talking Broadway, I think I'd definitely be more into fashioning outfits and elaborate sets than actually performing - though I'd love to do that, too. So - stage production? It would give me a lot of options to work with."

"You could work for me!" Rachel piped up excitedly. "You could do my costumes and makeup."

"You won't even let me give you a makeover," Kurt drawled, rolling his eyes. She frowned.

"Last time I let you do that I went to school in black spandex." He had the decency to feel bad for that particular prank of jealousy, and shifted uncomfortably in his seat.

"Well. There were - extenuating circumstances. I'll make it up to you if you let me try again?" Her eyes brightened with enthusiasm.

"Does this mean I can join you on your Girl Dates to go mall shopping?" she asked eagerly. He pretended to sigh reluctantly, though the small smile tugging at the corner of his lips gave him away.

"I suppose. Mercedes and I are going Sunday," he hinted. She nodded, thrilled.

Kurt wondered what it would be like, in the future. Would Rachel manage to push herself to the top, clawing her way up to her place on Broadway? He liked to think that someone with Rachel's willpower could - would - break through all barriers and obstacles to get exactly what she wanted. That determination and hard work had to pay off at some point.

He wondered, when she looked back on her successful life, if she'd be as tainted by fame as Gus and Grizabella. Upset with her fall from grace, upset that all good things came to an end. Would she have regrets? Would she have wished things had gone differently? Would she find what she wanted, in the end?

He wondered if he would ever get what he was looking for. If he would find someone just for him. He had put so much effort into getting Finn. He had wanted so badly to just be able to feel the acceptance Sam had offered unknowingly. And now Blaine - Blaine, who was gay, who understood him - he wondered if his patience and trying would be enough. Would they be together, in the future? Or would they just stay friends?

He supposed that wouldn't be too bad. Of course he wanted more - but he'd settle, if he had to.

Better to have something than to have nothing. He could live with that. That was his life, after all.

Gus walked offstage, cradled in the arms of Jellylorum as she comforted him with a soothing pat.


	7. Shades Of Gray

**I feel like the worst person ever. I totally forgot all about this until yesterday morning. And then I was lazy filling out job applications so I didn't bother to update.**

**Lesson learned: Upload all chapters at once, because I'm a ditz and can't remember to do it once a week.**

**I'm really sorry for having you guys wait like, months on end for this. Omnyomnyomrawrz. Thank you thank you thank you for all your reviews. Ugh, I'm sooo sorry about the lack of update though. So here're the last three chapters!**

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><p>"You should do this one," Blaine prompted, nudging Kurt with an encouraging smile. "It's rather - sexy."<p>

"No, I think I'm good," he replied dryly, inspecting his nails meticulously.

"This is an ideal opportunity to broaden your horizons and expand your repertoire!" Rachel exclaimed. "Though I don't see why you're having trouble pulling off 'sexy'. You were quite proficient with your hip thrusting when we performed Push It, and I'm pretty sure you had Santana drooling over the intensity of your Four Minutes routine."

"That's a good key point, you know," Blaine pointed out. "If you want to be sexy, you shouldn't try too hard."

Kurt's face flamed a brilliant crimson as he shifted uncomfortably, glaring viciously at the floor.

"Well, I at least will use this opportunity to develop my repertoire."

Rachel stood up and sauntered over to the television, standing before them with her eyes glued to the screen as she tried to imitate Demeter. She was rolling her hips rather awkwardly, trying to swish them in a circular motion but finding her movement too stiff to be provocative. She frowned, leaning a bit closer to the television in hopes that watching more closely would somehow give her a hint at perfecting her technique.

"Just pretend you're using a hula hoop," Blaine suggested, shrugging his shoulders. Kurt rolled his eyes and paused the movie, sighing dramatically as he made his way over to Rachel.

"You have to slid a bit more," he started, pointing to her hip. "We went over this in Cheerios practice. Coach said you need to think of your hips as a Pendulum - that blade that the Spanish Inquisition used to torture people, that swings back and forth as it's lowered onto a persons chest?"

With that, Kurt rewound the scene; as it played back, he imitated the choreography perfectly, swishing his hips in a low arc as he spun them in a circle. Rachel scrutinized Kurt's moves, her gaze intent as she watched him.

"_He's the bafflement of Scotland Yard / the flying squads despair / but when they reach the scene of crime / Macavity's not there_." Kurt was slowly loosing himself in the act, getting rather sensual as he copied their seductive moves. He was - touching himself in such an intimate sort of way, spinning in a slow circle as his hips rolled, letting the movement direct him. He gave a rather flirtatious come hither shake of his behind as the song continued. "_Macavity macavity there's no one like Macavity / he's broken every human law / he breaks the law of gravity / his powers of levitation would make a fakir stare / and when you reach the scene of crime / Macavity's not there_."

Rachel had stopped her own attempts to follow Kurt's lead, instead merely standing in surprised shock at how fluid Kurt's dancing was. Her voice trailed off as she became hypnotized by Kurt's performance. She wasn't the only one frozen numb by his displays. Blaine gaped, eyes fixed upon the smooth grace of Kurt's body.

"_Macavity's a ginger cat / he's very tall and thin / you would know him if you saw him / for his eyes are sunken in / his brow is deeply lined with thought / his head is highly domed / his coat is dusty from neglect / his whiskers are uncombed / he sways his head from side to side / with movements like a snake / and when you think he's half asleep / he's always WIDE AWAKE!_"

Rachel managed to find her voice in time to catch up with Bombalurina's song, her voice providing a strong and solid sway of lyrics as Kurt imitated her performance. He was slinking from the television to the couch, his arms flowing with an elegant snap as he stopped in front of Blaine. His head rolled from one side to the other, as if he were trying to fix a kink in his neck.

"_He's outwardly respectable,_" Kurt broke in, running a hand down his body and flicking his wrist outward, reaching both arms above his head as he swayed.

"_I know he cheats at cards,_" Rachel claimed smugly, striding towards him with sinuous poise.

"_And his footprints are not found in any files of Scotland Yard_." She seemed to have study plenty of Kurt's hands-on visual learning, and was proving herself to be quite an adept student. She'd learned quickly, mimicking the hip rolling perfectly in sync with the boy beside her.

Blaine was taken aback, enraptured by Kurt's movement. After the debacle with their Animal performance, he had questioned whether Kurt was truly capable of seduction. He was adorable, he was romantic, he was charming - but he tried to hard to be alluring. And yet here he was, once again proving Blaine wrong in his concluded ideas. Kurt was so full of surprises, and Blaine was absolutely enthralled.

"_Macavity Macavity / there's no one like Macavity / there never was a cat / of such deceitfulness and suavity / he always has an alibi / and one or two to spare / whatever time the deed took place / Macavity's not there!_"

Their movements were a perfect mirror - hand sliding over head, trailing from shoulder to hip. They twisted their hips and spun around, arms at their sides as they shook their behinds in a coaxing half-swagger meant to ensnare an audience, their shoulders shaking in tandem.

There was a slight pause before Demeter and Bombalurina jumped into the gossip of those who worked for the mysterious Macavity. Kurt had been keenly tracking Rachel's dancing, and nodded in approval before flouncing back to the couch, flinging himself beside Blaine as if nothing had happened.

Blaine shifted, glad to still be holding the pillow on his lap he had snagged as a prop from his Skimbleshanks number.

"So," Rachel started as the wild Macavity jumped onto the stage. He was like lightening, jagged stripes and frayed static hair, snatching Demeter and attempting to kidnap her. "Do you think he wants her because he's really evil or just jealous?"

"Backstory of Macavity now?" Kurt drawled, faking his disdain. "We're really going to analyze every character?"

"The entire point of this musical is to analyze the characters," Rachel shot back, sniffing condescendingly. "Like the real world, the characters have clear personalities, even if you have to dig around under the surface of their actions and read between the lines of their lyrics to understand them. But the relations they have with each other aren't defined - it's all based on the creative license of the actors to interpret how to convey the characters choreography and facial expressions and song. There is no distinct connection between them all - it's not all black and white, it's shades of gray. The audience is suppose to question the relations between the characters and, perhaps, apply these relations to their own life to reveal something meaningful about themselves."

"That's deep," Kurt said dryly. She smacked him lightly, urging him back to her question.

"So then. Do you think Demeter had a fling with Macavity and regretted it? Or do you think that Macavity took advantage of her and she has to live with the consequences?"

Kurt tensed. On screen, Macavity had entered the scene, and was being attacked as the Jellicle tribe moved in to protect their own. They were jumping upon him, scratching at him, chasing him away. It all had a film noir feel to it - seductive, dark, enigmatic. Intimate, ominous, secretive.

It reminded him of Karofsky, of having his first kiss stolen from him. The shame of that snap moment where it had felt good because all his mind could think of for that split second was that a boy - sturdy, firm, masculine - was kissing him. And the tsunami of fear and terror and horror that had swallowed him up, that had rushed out of his initial shock to push Karofsky away. If that was what had happened between Demeter and Macavity - he understood that, her standoffish ways, her distant attitude. Pushing others away.

But her family had come through and saved her. And it hurt to wonder what that would have been like - to have told them what had really happened, in the locker room. To have them stand up for him, to help him, to save him.

But that wasn't what had happened.

He hadn't trusted them to do anything, so he hadn't seen the point in bothering to mention it. Puck had been a bully, once upon a time. Finn had done the same, had said hurtful things, had done nothing to stop others from picking on him. His own brother hadn't even stood up for him when the others did, so why would they in any case?

In some twisted way, he figured that it wasn't really any different than what had been happening to begin with. It had only escalated - and wasn't that what was going to have happened anyway? Things like bullying always got worse, moving from verbal to physical to sexual. It was _expected_.

"Maybe he did take advantage of her. Maybe he tried to get her back because he was jealous," he agreed bitterly, thinking back to when Blaine had come to McKinley to stand up to Karofsky with him and had been hurt because Karofsky had lashed out. "It would be nice to think that maybe he just wants her back because they had some sort of _moment_ that was consensual. It would also be nice to say he's just pure evil and doesn't care if he hurts others because he's selfish. But like you said - it's not all black and white. Life isn't that easy."

Nothing was ever that simple. Karofsky was ruled by fear - just like every other insecure person in the world. He was afraid of stepping outside the box, of being looked upon differently, pressured by his peers. It was a sad state of being, he thought.

And suddenly Kurt felt so grateful to have found safety at Dalton, where they treated him like everyone else. They listened, and tried to encourage him to let himself be normal. He didn't have to scream for attention - he could sit and talk and discuss like everyone else and be heard and listened to; he wasn't pushed away or ignored. He was different, with his love of show tunes, and that was alright because they all had quirks - but such things were accepted, and they knew how to put them aside to work as a team; they supported each other without complaint or force or obligation. Of course there were disagreements, but there wasn't any drama going along with it.

It was good to feel like he was one of them without trepidation or having to fight for a place there.

And even if that's not how the real world worked, it was nice to feel at ease, if only for the while.

"_Macavity's not there."_


	8. It's Magical

"I think Kurt would make a pretty good Mistoffelees," Blaine piped up as the screen scanned through the darkness of the stage. Kurt raised an eyebrow, as if challenging him to prove his point. Well then, he thought enthusiastically.

"_Please, listen to me, and don't scoff / all his inventions are off his own bat. There's no such cat in the metropolis / he holds all the patent monopolies for performing surprising allusions / and creating eccentric confusions_," Blaine stated, completely overdoing such praises as he waggled his eyebrows in Kurt's direction. The countertenor tried not to look too embarrassed by the embellished expressions of absolute worship Blaine was pulling off. Rachel giggled into her hand, watching them with amusement.

"_Oh well / I never / was there ever a cat so clever as Magical Mister Mistoffelees?_"

"_Presto,_" Kurt muttered under his breath, a small smirk tugging at the corners of his lips. He wiggled his fingers in front of his face, attempting to join in with Blaine's exaggerated performance by throwing in jazz hands.

"_His manner is vague and aloof,"_ Blaine claimed, as if it were some underground conspiracy.

"_You would think there was nobody shyer,"_ Rachel added in a stage whisper.

"_But his voice can be heard from the roof!" _Blaine shouted, jumping to his feet and dragging Kurt off the couch. He pulled the countertenor to the side, spinning him around. _"While he was curled up by the fire."_

"_And he's sometimes been heard by the fire,"_ Rachel noted with a grin. _"While he was about on the roof."_

"_At least, we all heard that somebody purred!"_ Blaine exclaimed, shaking his finger at her.

"_Which is incontestable proof._ Speaking of proof, don't you own that jacket, Kurt?" Rachel pointed out, waving her hand at the sequined black blazer that was part of the costume on the magical cat. He rolled his eyes.

"Of course not. Mine's designer, not some poorly put together costume that has strings of sparkles flying off of it," he drawled. "Loose threads have a tendency to snag - do you really think I'd wear something that could fall apart so easily? Besides, though it pains me to say it, that much glitter is not a fashion statement. "

"Pav would eat you for saying that," Blaine mumbled.

"But it looks catchy," she argued with a smile. Blaine laughed, ushering Kurt back onto the couch so they could finish watching comfortably, without standing and blocking the television.

Mistoffelees opened his arms to the audience, catching a large tin that had been thrown at him, covered in construction paper and made to look like a mug to emphasize the smallness of Jellicle Cats. He reached an arm back above his head, face wide in surprise before reaching in and pulling out a long rainbow scarf, tossing it behind him as he pranced about the stage. A mist of shimmering sparkles clouded behind him.

"See, Rachel?" Kurt pointed out smugly.

"He's gayer than the fourth of July," Blaine added, grinning as he nudged Kurt's shoulder. She rolled her eyes.

"But look at that thing he just did with Victoria!" she exclaimed. Blaine grinned.

"And look at that look that Tugger's giving him in the background. He wants him."

"Even though he's hanging all over two other female cats?" she challenged. Kurt raised an eyebrow. "Maybe he's just encouraging him."

"You know, technically, Mistoffelees is supposed to be singing this song himself. But look who's singing about him instead. You'd have to be rather close with someone to sing a song specifically about them," Kurt pointed out.

"It's _magical!" _Blaine claimed, singing the word along with Tugger as he grinned.

Rachel huffed, returning her attention to the movie, waiting for the magic to happen just as Deuteronomy was revealed from beneath a sparkling red sheet while Tugger proudly showed off Misto.


	9. What Happiness Is

There was a dramatic pause as Munkustrap headed towards Deuteronomy, signaling that it was time to choose who would have the honor of redemption. This was it - The Moment. The apex of the maelstrom, the climax of their storytelling. The beginning of the fall. Jemima, Silabub, stood in the cold white spotlight, sleek against the black starry night, her ethereal voice echoing forlorn hope into the dead silence.

"_Daylight, see the dew on a sunflower / and a rose that is fading / roses wither away_," Kurt and Rachel harmonized together. But she saw the glance he had made out of the corner of his eye - that aching longing. She let him finish the line himself.

"_Like a sunflower / I yearn to turn my face to the dawn / I am waiting - for the day_."

A soft quiet fell as Grizabella stumbled back onto the stage, still desperately searching.

Rachel found herself scanning through the lyrics, skimming them over in her head as she watched Blaine watch Kurt sing softly. They fit the song so wonderfully. They were like the sun and the moon, revolving around each other - being a light in the dark, bringing warmth to each other. She wondered why she hadn't seen it earlier, why she thought she'd even stood a chance with Blaine.

Maybe she'd known all along it wasn't right, but wanted to feel something - anything - anyway.

They all made mistakes. They all hurt each other. And they probably always would. That's what growing up was, wasn't it? Tripping, stumbling, falling - picking yourself up, dusting yourself up, continuing on forward. Holding on to the joy in their hearts.

"_Burnt out ends of smokey days / the stale cold smell of morning / the streetlamp dies / another night is over / another day is dawning. Daylight I must wait for the sunrise / I must think of a new life / and I mustn't give in / when the dawn comes / tonight will be a memory too / and a new day will begin_."

Kurt had suffered through so much, and yet he had the courage to keep going.

He deserved happiness.

"_Sunlight through the trees in summer / endless masquerading. Like a flower as the dawn is breaking / the memory is fading_." Blaine had joined in, his voice a mere whisper beneath Kurt's melody.

She quietly slipped off the couch, sneaking out of the room. Hopefully Blaine would wake up.

They needed to stop dancing around each other and realize what was right in front of them.

Finn was standing in the hallway, watching her slid her shoes on as she readied herself to leave.

Blaine and Kurt - they made all the bad things seem so insignificant compared to their joy together.

"Is it over yet?" She smiled fondly.

"Not quite."

* * *

><p>"<em>Touch me  it's so easy to leave me / all alone with the memory / of my days in the sun / if you touch me / you'll understand what happiness is / look - a new day has begun_."

The music faded, echoing into silence.

Victoria reached out, holding Grizabella's hands.

Blaine found his own fingers intertwined with Kurt's. He glanced up, suddenly caught up in the swirls of watery blue and lush green and soft gray, the beautiful and bright and vibrant colours of Kurt's eyes that simply captivated him. And gosh, his lips looked delicious.

It hit him suddenly that maybe, maybe Kurt was what he'd been looking for all along.

Struck by this hasty impulse, Blaine's other hand shot out, grasping Kurt's other hand firmly. Things were falling into place - those duets, those passes, the coffee, the chats. It all made sense, all those feelings that coiled in him. He finally _got_ it. Kurt started, taken aback by the unexpected touch.

"Kurt." Blaine looked up at him, staring intently as he rode the sudden wave of a sweeping sea of emotion. Kurt didn't move, waiting for whatever was about to come next. Blaine faltered, his gaze falling down to their entwined fingers. He couldn't get his thoughts clear. He couldn't think of what to say. He couldn't take that chance. He couldn't ruin what they had. It was too important. Kurt was too important.

But then Kurt squeezed his hand gently - that unspoken support of courage.

"You mean the world to me." Oh. How cliché. How sappy. Who'd believe that line, anyway? That wasn't quite how he wanted to start. Had he messed this up already? Great. He totally would, wouldn't he. But he'd already started, so he had to finish. Nothing left to loose since he'd just made a fool of himself, right? Confidence. Courage. "There's this moment when you say to yourself '_oh there you are, I've been looking for you forever_'. You - you move me, Kurt. I just - I don't want to lose you. I - I don't know what I'd do if you - if you left me."

_I want you. I _need _you_.

_I love you_.

They had to have been the most ridiculous sentences he had ever spoken. This was worse than The Gap Attack. Worse than The Rachel Berry Trainwreck Extravaganza. He wished the floor would open up and swallow him whole.

"Blaine." His head snapped up, nervous. Oh, he was nervous, more fuel to the fire. But Kurt was - smiling. Did that mean he hadn't made a complete fool of himself?

Kurt leaned forward, their foreheads bumping together. He was so close - just that small little gap, and they would be there, they would have everything they'd waited for.

But - it wasn't - right. Kurt had had his kiss stolen; even though this was a move that showed acceptance, that encouraged him, Blaine couldn't help but feel a bit under pressure for perfection at it. Kurt liked romance, after all; sure, this moment here, it was nice, it was wonderfully nice, but he could do better. He _would_ do better.

"I'm not going to kiss you yet," Blaine said quietly in a tone that left no room for argument. "I want to do this right. You deserve that. So I'm going to take you out on a date first, a real proper date this time. Okay?"

Kurt stared at him, trying to process that this was real, that this was actually happening.

"What are you doing this Saturday?" Blaine asked, carrying on before loosing the last vestiges of what little nerve he had managed to work up.

The countertenor swallowed nervously, so worked up that instead of answering right away, he found his heightened senses focused on listening to the television.

"_You should need no interpreter / to understand out character. You've learned enough to take the view / that cats are very much like you._" It was strange, seeing Blaine - nervous. So very human, just as imperfect. And it was wonderful, to be able to see him on an equal level. There were no expectations - just sincerity, just trust.

"I was going to help my dad in the garage for a bit," he answered honestly. "But - I can figure something out."

Blaine reached up, cupping Kurt's cheek with his hand. He ran a thumb across his pale skin, enthralled as he stared, trying to memorize every detail of the beautiful boy before him.

Romance, something touching and breathtaking - something that conveyed his emotions without being too much. Blaine reached down, picking up one of Kurt's hands, kissing his knuckles softly.

"_And so in time you reach your aim and call him by his name!"_

"That," Blaine started, smiling gently. "Sounds wonderful."


End file.
